My Songbird
by emily12tusc
Summary: Emmy James is a student at NYU focused on a whirlwind career after being discovered on YouTube...that is, until she crosses paths with Spencer Reid. Reid/OC, Morgan/Garcia, Hotch/JJ
1. Chapter 1

The sun shone in brightly through the windows of the small coffee shop. The smells of espresso and spice blended beautifully to create a warm environment that kept patrons coming back for more. The fact that this coffee shop was located near NYU was another positive for the owners, as it attracted a large student crowd. That's how Emmy had come to know and love Java – her freshman year at NYU she had come here after miserably wrecking her first theatre audition. The play – _The Seagull_. The part – Irina. She had walked in, eyes threatening to spill the tears that had dammed up. One look at her and the barista insisted that she have a coffee on the house. She had taken it black and had fallen in love. The next day she found out she had been cast as Irina and would be taking the stage with some talented and experienced actors. Deciding that the coffee had somehow helped in securing the role, she came back every morning.

The baristas knew her by name. They also knew her school schedule, dictating what time she would come in each morning. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she would be at the store at 8:15am, and her black coffee would be ready for her. Tuesdays and Thursdays she would be there by 8:55am, and again the coffee would be ready. She would spend hours at the store, researching monologues to use for various auditions. The baristas entertained her requests for an audience when she needed to rehearse, and they had come to love the bubbly blonde who no longer cried after auditions but instead ordered three shots of espresso to perk her up.

This morning happened to be a Friday, so, as usual, she had been at the shop at 8:15 to retrieve her coffee. The baristas noticed something different about her appearance this morning, however, and began to question her. "Emmy, you're looking tired this morning," Jamison stated from behind the counter. He was the barista who had swiftly become her best friend in the coffee shop, the one who had begun her affair with Java by offering her that first wicked cup. She smiled and simply nodded. "It was a long night of studying," she replied, tilting the cup back and letting the dark liquid captivate her. It slid smoothly down her throat into her stomach, warming and waking her at the same time. She smiled again, this time brighter, and stated, "I think this will do the trick."

"It always does, love," he laughed and she made her way to her typical table. It was located in the corner of the store, across from the milk and sugar table. Pulling out her laptop she decided to check the emails that she had neglected since the beginning of the week. It had been a long one, full of midterms and audition preparation. She had not realized how close she was to entering the real world until this past week; the thought of the four auditions she had tomorrow caused her breath to hitch a little in her chest. Opening Google Chrome she headed straight for Gmail, sighing as she typed in her user info. She downed the last bit of the coffee Jamison had given her earlier, frowning a little as she realized the bliss was over. Jamison noticed the look and smiled as he prepared a second cup for the blonde.

Emmy swiftly deleted pointless emails from Facebook and was about to open an email from her mother when another caught her eye. It was from a voice professor at NYU, one that she knew of because he worked closely with the musical theatre department but not one she was associated with because she had never focused strictly on musical theatre. She clicked the link to open it, wondering why in the world he would be contacting her.

_Ms. James,_

_I was shown this video last night at a rehearsal by a peer of yours who thought I might be interested in seeing it. I know that you are focused on acting, but with that kind of a voice you might want to consider extending your studies at NYU to add musical theatre to your repertoire. If you wouldn't mind I would like to meet with you to discuss a few possibilities extending outside of the school setting as well. You know where my office is. Feel free to email me a time when you can meet._

_Dr. Vincent Hoff  
>Professor of Voice and Music Theory <em>

At the bottom of the email was a link to a YouTube video. She clicked it anxiously, wondering what had captivated his interest so much. "Cover of Adele's 'Rolling in the Deep'…Amazing." She recognized the setting immediately. It was from an open mic night she had performed in at a local jazz club Sunday night. She pressed the button to allow the video to play. She and her guitar were illuminated beautifully in the low lights of the stage. She had been dressed in a long black and white striped shirt with a lace flower on the right shoulder, paired with black tights and black heels. Her hair, a layered crop with bangs, framed her face and made it look slimmer. Her makeup looked spectacular in the light, and she allowed herself to smile at her appearance. It wasn't everyday she looked at herself and thought she looked good. The dark eyeliner and mascara had been a good choice, making her look sultry, and her red lips popped against her ivory skin. She adjusted the volume in time to hear the strums of her guitar begin. She had started softly and built, and the audience was blown away when she had gotten to the chorus. It gave her chills to watch it replay.

"Emmy, is that _you_?" Jamison questioned as he placed the new cup of coffee beside her. She nodded as she continued watching the video, and he sat beside her. "Jesus, I didn't know you could sing like that," he added as it finished and the applause roared. She saw herself on the screen. She had been close to tears that night at the response, and once again she felt her eyes get a little misty. People actually thought she was good. She began to scroll down to view the comments when Jamison exclaimed, "Emmy! Look at how many views this thing has had!" Her breath caught as she read the number – the video had already had over 1.5 million hits. She was a YouTube sensation. "Oh…" she whispered. "Is this really happening?"

Jamison laughed. "Yeah, Emmy, this is happening." He kissed her on the forehead and she blushed. "Let's read the comments," he suggested, and she obliged. It felt weird reading remarks like, "This girl is way too talented for jazz clubs," and "BEST VOICE EVER" about herself, but she couldn't help feeling warmer and warmer as she continued reading them. They were talking about her, and not for her acting, but for her singing. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Jamison excused himself. Looking back down at the computer she read the email once more, deciding that she would pay Dr. Hoff a visit that day. Until then, however, she had monologues to prepare. "Hey Jamison…you have time to listen to some monologues?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter One  
><em>"A star shone at the hour of our meeting." –J.R.R. Tolkien

Wednesday morning had started out much like every Wednesday morning had the past year. Emmy had woken up in her studio apartment, rolled out of bed begrudgingly desiring more sleep, and shuffled to the bathroom where she proceeded to press play on her iPod. She had a playlist to listen to while she got ready, something her friends teased her about but she couldn't imagine it any other way. She turned the hot water to a steady flow in the shower and undressed as Mumford and Sons filled the air. The water cascaded over her tired body and she took her time washing herself. The scent of passion fruit invigorated her and started setting the mood for a good day.

As she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself she smiled. The song had switched over to Ingrid Michaelson's "Everybody." She sang along with the melody, jumping into harmony on occasion then gracefully matching Ingrid again. Her morning ritual was always just what she needed to complete the good mood atmosphere. People always said Emmy had a pleasant disposition, something she enjoyed about herself. If there was one thing she had learned it was that you had to take what life threw at you and make it positive. There was no use dwelling on things you couldn't fix. She wanted to make the world a better place.

She noted the time on the clock – 7:35am. Grabbing her makeup bag she made her way back to her bed. She hummed along with The Beatles as she applied a thin layer of powder to prevent oil, a bit of blush, and mascara. She was grateful that she didn't need that much makeup – she had never gotten used to wearing so much. The one thing she hated about performances was the makeup she had to wear, the feeling that it was clogging her pores. After putting everything back in the bag she brushed her teeth and started working on her hair. It was still damp, perfect for the look she wanted to achieve today. She scrunched it, creating gentle waves as she allowed the warm heat from the blow dryer to set them in place. She then gathered her hair loosely and pulled it into a messy bun on the base of her neck. After using some pins to keep the bun in place she made her way to the closet. She retrieved her favorite pair of jeans, a faded style with a hole in the knee, and searched for a top to go with it. She decided on a pale blue v-neck t-shirt. She liked the way the top slimmed her. She was not fat by any means, but she wasn't what the world would describe as skinny. She had learned how to dress in a manner that accented her figure. Surveying herself in the mirror she approved of what she saw and slipped into her worn out black and gray TOMS that spelled out "Journey is the Destination." Before leaving the closet she had put on her pearl stud earrings, a gift from her mother, and her paper bead necklace she had picked up in Africa.

It was now 8:03. It took her ten minutes to get to Java from her apartment, allowing her two minutes to retrieve whatever else she needed. Grabbing her oversized tote bag from the chair she had thrown it in yesterday she rummaged for her keys and cell phone, making sure both were safely inside. Noting that they were she quickly applied a sheer lip gloss and departed for her morning euphoria. The walk was a pleasant one. New York never failed to disappoint Emmy, and today was no exception. The weather was perfectly mild, and the sun was shining. Having grown up in the South Emmy had learned to enjoy the simple things in life. She had a smile on her face as she walked into the shop.

"Good morning, Miss Emmy," Greg, the owner of Java, called out to her. "You look pleasant today."

She laughed. "It's been a good day, Greg."

"You want your usual?"

"You know, I think I'm going to go a little crazy this morning and try something different."

"No! What are you going to have, little miss?"

"A black coffee…with cinnamon, sugar, and a little cream." He laughed at her. "I'll do the hard work myself." She thanked him graciously as he passed her the steaming cup of coffee with enough room for the extras. After she had poured them into the cup she made her way to her table in the corner. Several patrons looked at her and whispered, and she tried her best to ignore the stares as she opened her laptop.

Life was certainly different now that people knew who she was. The YouTube video had gone viral, and before she knew it people were begging for more. She did a few more shows in local bars, one of which had gotten the attention of an agent. He found her after the show and had given her his information, practically begging her to meet with him the next day. She obliged, and before she knew it she had been signed to a record label and was recording covers of some of her favorite songs. Her EP had been a hit on iTunes, and her fans were begging her to start writing and recording her own stuff. Then a tour had been set up for the summer, hitting big cities across the United States like Atlanta, Houston, Chicago, Seattle, San Diego, and Phoenix. Fan mail had greeted her when she got back to New York, and for the entire year she constantly tried to figure out how fortune had decided to smile on her. She didn't want to give up on her studies at NYU, so her agent began booking around her school work. For a woman of 22, life was looking good and only getting better.

Her computer loaded and she logged into her email. There were several from her agent asking about particular shows that she might be interested in, as well as a few from her mother, probably wondering when her daughter was coming home to Alabama to spend a few weeks of rest. She clicked to open the first email from her mother and stirred her coffee as the message loaded. Messages from her mother always made her uncomfortable, only because she knew her mother tried to overlook the strained relationship between her and her father. Emmy didn't want to tell her that the reason she never came home was not because she didn't have time, but instead was because she did not feel like dealing with her father's drunkenness.

_Hey baby girl. I tried to call you the other day, but your phone went to voicemail. I guess you were in class. Everything here is normal; nothing really going on to tell you about. I miss you…I wish you would come home. You know that your father loves you, and he sends you his love. I hope that you aren't stressing yourself out…you know that you need your rest, too. Check your mail; I think your grandmother sent you something. Call me soon, please. I miss hearing your voice. I love you. Mama_

She sighed, knowing that her mother meant well. She quickly closed out of the email and started to delete it, but then decided against it, knowing eventually her conscience would get the best of her and she would call her back. She began to log onto Twitter, still deep in her thoughts of home and her mother when a voice pulled her back to reality.

"Hey, um, sorry to bother you but do you know which one of these is cream?" She looked up at the owner of the voice, and her breath caught in her throat. He was tall, slender, and his eyes were captivating, a shade of hazel with gold specks throughout. He was awkward, and it intrigued her. "Yeah, it's that middle container. Yeah, that one." She smiled as he located it, willing him to continue the conversation while rationalizing that he would leave. Her heart sank as he started to walk away, so to distract herself she began reading new tweets from her fans. She didn't realize he was beside her until he said, "You probably get this a lot, but…" She waited for him to ask her name, but he finished, "that's a _lot_ of bracelets. Do you mind me asking why you have so many?" She laughed as she looked toward the objects on her wrists, all gifts from various fans and friends. "They're friendship bracelets…I tweeted one time that I think they're pretty awesome and then I got, like, fifty of them in the mail."

"Wow. You must have a lot of Twitter followers," he stated, clearly not recognizing who she was. She was relieved to finally be near someone who wasn't talking to her simply because of her music. "I guess you could say that," she laughed. "I'm Emmy James."

"Dr. Spencer Reid." It was his turn to laugh at the questioning glance she gave him upon calling himself doctor. "Not a medical doctor, but I do have three PhDs…but you probably don't care about that."

"I find that incredibly fascinating. How old are you? Oh my gosh, that must seem rude of me to ask that…"

"Twenty-nine. I have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory…"

"So you're a genius. Well, Dr. Reid, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise. Wait, you aren't _the_ Emmy James, are you? The one from the YouTube video…" She blushed, and he knew that he had revealed her secret. "But that's not something you like to publicize. Probably because you are humble. Based off of that and the slight accent I can pick up, you probably grew up in the South…Alabama. You like to keep your identity a secret…sorry I brought it out." Her mouth had opened slightly, not able to figure out how he had deduced so much about her based off of their slight conversation. "How did you…"

"Oh, I work for the FBI, um, more specifically the BAU, Behavior Analysis Unit. I analyze human behavior, mainly to catch criminals but also just to figure people out…am I freaking you out?"

"No, I'm just…a little overwhelmed to be in the presence of someone so intelligent. It's a relief, to be perfectly honest. I'm so used to people only coming up to talk to me because they want something. Don't get me wrong – I love my fans. I would be nowhere without them, but sometimes it gets a little exhausting only being recognized because you're famous and not because you are just another person to talk to…I'm rambling. My apologies…" She let her voice drift off, and he quickly picked up, "I didn't mean to upset you. I find you interesting outside of your music. Like…like the fact that you do things in sets of threes, like twirl your spoon or click your mouse…or the fact that you smile when people talk to you instead of scowling like most New Yorkers…" He stopped as she looked down, hoping he hadn't upset her further. His heart skipped a beat as she looked back up, smiling. "Thank you, Spencer. Listen, I know that we just met, and this might seem a little awkward, but I'm having a show tomorrow night on campus…I was wondering if you might want to come…don't feel like you have to or anything, but…"

"I'd love that." He stopped her midsentence, and her smile grew in intensity. "Do you mind if I bring some friends? My friend Penelope, in particular, she's actually the one who showed me your video…I think she has, like, all of your songs and I know she would flip out if she could meet you." Emmy laughed. "Yeah, I'd love it if you brought people. It's going to be at the theatre in the student union building. Technically it's supposed to be, like, ten bucks to get in, but text me when you get there and I'll pull you guys backstage." She quickly pulled out a pen from her purse and jotted her number on a napkin. Handing it to Spencer, she couldn't help but feel a chill as their fingers grazed. She knew she was being stupid, but there was something about him that made her want more. He smiled at her, and she blushed.

"Well, I've, um, I've got to get to work," he said. "But I'll see you tomorrow night."

"I can't wait," she replied, truly meaning it.

"Me either," he finished, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to get her off his mind until he saw her again. He grabbed his coffee from the table, adjusted his shoulder bag, and exited the store, leaving Emmy breathless. She was vaguely aware of Greg making his way over to her, laughing as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "That, my dear one, is what love at first sight looks and feels like." She playfully punched him in the shoulder, and he pulled back laughing harder. "Don't hate, sweet girl, I'm old – I know what I'm talking about. I've lived many years and I can tell you what love looks like."

"It's just a stupid crush, Greg. The guy works for the FBI…why would he want to waste his time on a college student?"

"Dear one, he looked at you first…and he couldn't take his eyes off of you." She blushed as her heart skipped and her stomach did somersaults. Greg laughed as he made his way back behind the counter, humming "So This Is Love" as he went.


	3. Chapter 3

Spencer walked quickly through the doors to the police station where his fellow BAU members waited for him. Aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner wore a look of professionalism, but his teammates could easily read that the case at hand was stressing him out. As he downed the last bit of his coffee from Java Reid noticed that a new picture had been added to the victim board. _That explains the stress_, he thought grimly to himself. Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau was about to begin briefing the team as he sat beside Derek Morgan.

"Police discovered a third victim this morning. Her name is Jenna Fouts, a senior at NYU majoring in studio art…" She clicked through the brutal crime scene photos, depicting a beautiful redhead with deep stab wounds all over her naked chest and abdomen. The unsub had branded her, as he had the previous two victims, on her inner right thigh, and then raped her before cracking her skull against a wall multiple times until she died. As JJ described the brutality of the crime Reid's mind was running a million miles an hour trying to connect the dots on the case. So far all they had was that the girls were all between the ages of 19 and 22, students at NYU, majoring in an art related field. Other than that, the victimology was all over the place. The girls were from different home states (New York, California, Wyoming), had different hair color (black, brunette, red), and came from different social circles (sorority, pot smoker, athletics).

Hotch broke through the silence as he began giving assignments to his team. "Reid, Morgan, I want you to go to campus and interview the staff for any prominent art majors. It seems the unsub targets big names on campus, girls who have showcases around the time of their murder, so note any upcoming shows. Rossi and I will check out the most recent crime scene while JJ does media control. Is everybody clear on their assignment?"

The team nodded and voiced their acknowledgment and split up. Morgan noted that Reid was particularly quiet on the short walk to campus, so he broke the silence. "You looked chipper this morning when you walked into the station."

"It's a beautiful day, Morgan. The sun is shining, the coffee was fresh…"

Morgan laughed. "Alright, whatever you say, Pretty Boy. How about we start at the student union building and search the upcoming shows?"

Reid nodded in agreement. "That sounds good to me." As they made their way into the building the first thing they noticed was how busy it was. It felt as if at least half of the student population was gathered, sipping coffee, checking email, scarfing down lunch, catching up with friends. Morgan called his attention to a large bulletin board in the middle of the floor containing vibrant posters of upcoming shows on and around campus. As they approached Reid's breath hitched in his chest as he saw Emmy's show advertised front and center. She looked radiant, smoky eyes closed as she silently crooned. Morgan couldn't help but notice his friend's reaction, and he let out a laugh. "Whoa there, Pretty Boy. Are you…blushing?"

Reid shook his head. "No…I mean, she's an attractive girl…it's a natural reaction…"

"You are totally into her! And you've never even met her…" The look Reid gave him stopped him in his tracks. "Oh…"

"This morning when I got my coffee. She was there, and I honestly didn't know who she was at first, but then we started talking…"

"I didn't know you had it in you, kid…"

"She invited us to her show tomorrow night. Well, she invited me but then I asked if I could bring you guys…"

"Really? That's incredible. You guys should spend some alone time together though, especially with how you feel. Ask her to go to dinner after the show."

Reid looked skeptical. "I don't know…"

Morgan stopped him in his tracks. "You have to take chances, man. Live a little. Just see where it goes." Reid nodded in agreement. "You know, you're right. I'll text her later and ask if she wants to go somewhere. But for now, we have a job to do." He grabbed the poster as he spoke those words and began to search the board for any more show posters. He found one other, a dance showcase for a Mary Grace DuMont, but no others. Feeling like the board had been completely searched, they began to talk to faculty and staff in the theatre, music, art, and dance departments, and all of those interviewed listed Mary Grace and Emmy as standout students at the university. Spencer and Derek thanked them all before making their way back to the station.

"I think it's a good lead," Morgan stated simply as the two sat down in the conference room. Reid had grabbed his fourth cup of coffee for the day and was staring at the two posters in front of him. Both of the shows were for the following night. Every time he glanced at Emmy's poster his stomach knotted up, only now it had turned from a pleasant experience to one of impending doom. She was just the unsub's type…and Spencer would do whatever it took to make sure she was okay.

"Reid? Reid!" The younger man jumped as he realized Morgan had been trying to get his attention. "You okay, Pretty Boy?"

Reid nodded. "Yeah. Just trying to figure out how to go about catching this unsub…" He rubbed his head absentmindedly and Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Reid, we're gonna catch this guy. Don't you worry about it. We won't let anything happen to her, okay?"

Before Reid could say anything in response Penelope Garcia, the BAU's bubbly technical analyst burst into the room. "Hello my Boy Genius…and hello my Chocolate Adonis." She gave Morgan a quick peck on the lips before starting. "As much as I would love to say this visit was just that, I come bearing information."

"What you got, Baby Girl?"

"Well, I ran the prints from the crime scenes through our system, and unfortunately there were no matches. However, when I was viewing surveillance footage from the victims' showcases there were only three men that were at all three showcases."

"Good work, Garcia," Reid quipped. "Who are they?"

"Joseph Donelly, a substantial donor to the arts at NYU; Francisco Martin, a local florist; and Billy Shipley, a voice professor at NYU."

"Start running background checks on them, Garcia," Hotch ordered as he and Rossi entered the room. She looked up, not phased. "On it already, sir. I'll be back when I get results." With a wink to Morgan she left in the same manner she had entered, heading back to her traveling technology lair.

"What did you two find?" Hotch addressed the two younger agents.

"There are only two showcases coming up, both tomorrow night. The first is for a Mary Grace DuMont, a senior majoring in dance, and the other is for Emmy James…" Morgan began filling in, only to be interrupted by JJ as she filed into the room.

"_The_ Emmy James? As in, YouTube sensation Emmy James?" She asked in wonder.

"The very same…and it seems like we might have a personal connection to this show…" As Morgan answered JJ Reid glared at him. "Reid met her at a coffee shop this morning, and she invited him to the show."

"You have got to be kidding me! Reid, that's incredible! Please tell me you said yes…you did say yes, right?"

"I asked her if it would be okay if we all came…"

"But you're gonna do something with her, just the two of you, right?"

"Morgan suggested it, but…"

"We can discuss this later," Hotch interjected. Reid shot him a look of gratitude before asking, "Did you guys find anything at the crime scene?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Rossi answered. "I'm just ready to catch this guy."

"I think we all are," Hotch stated bluntly. "Unless the unsub changes pattern, his next strike shouldn't be until tomorrow night, so you guys head back to the motel and get some rest. We are gonna have a long day tomorrow." The others nodded in agreement and began to gather their things. Hotch looked toward his youngest team member, not missing the way he kept glancing toward Emmy's picture.

"Reid, may I speak with you?" The look on Reid's face almost caused a chuckle to escape Hotch's lips, but he maintained a professional air as the young genius made his way over. "Yes sir?"

"I know you have a bit of a, um, personal connection with Ms. James…"

"Really, Hotch, it's not gonna be a problem…"

"Reid, I was just going to tell you that I'm happy for you." A smile flickered on his lips as Reid's face went from defensiveness to relief. "Thanks, Hotch." He asked permission to leave which Hotch granted, and the young genius followed Morgan and JJ to the car. Rossi made his way over to Hotch and chuckled under his breath. "Young love."

"It's about time Reid found someone to captivate his interest," Hotch smiled.

"Let's just hope we can catch this unsub soon. I have a feeling Reid may not be the only guy with his eye on Emmy James right now." Rossi's words hung like a thick, oppressive curtain in the air. He had vocalized what their team leader feared the most.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday had passed slowly for Emmy. Show days always seemed to drag by, but today had even more so. She accounted it to the fact that she was excited about seeing Spencer again. It was uncalled for, really, all this excitement about a boy. Especially since the boy in question had only been in her life for a day. Still, she couldn't help the fact that every time she thought about him her heart fluttered a little bit. Or, when he had texted her last night asking if they could get dinner just the two of them after the show that she had actually stopped breathing for a few seconds. No, she had never had this kind of reaction to a boy before, but she wasn't complaining about it now.

So as she sat getting ready for her show she found her mind drifting to him; she wondered what he was doing, what he would wear tonight, and what he would think about her show. She found herself fretting over what she would wear, wondering if she would look like she put too much effort into it or not enough effort into it…and then she stopped. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled as realization struck her. He wouldn't care what she wore. He would appreciate her for _her_, for the quirks he had listed and for her crazy love of friendship bracelets and coffee and playing the guitar. That gave her comfort and allowed her to settle down. As she began applying eye shadow her phone vibrated with an incoming text. Quickly she checked the ID and saw it was Jamison.

_Hope you have had a good day, Ms. James. I'll see you back stage tonight. Oh, I'm bringing Mary Grace. She's really excited to finally meet you. –J_

Emmy smiled at her friend's good news. She was happy he had finally met a girl who fit him as perfectly as Mary Grace did. She checked the shadow in the mirror before moving to eyeliner and mascara. When she was satisfied with the result she made her way to the closet. Her eyes fell upon a black dress with a ribbon cinching the material close to her waist. The neckline was a sweetheart line, and there was a small ivory trim on the top line. She paired the dress with a pair of Alexander McQueen peep toe pumps with a black orchid lace overlay. She examined herself in the mirror, so far pleased with the look.

She made her way to the bathroom, styling her long blonde hair into gentle flowing waves. She then brushed her teeth and applied a ruby lip color and gloss. Taking a final look at herself in the full length mirror she smiled. She felt beautiful. Hopefully Spencer would think the same…she shook her head to clear the thought. Again her phone vibrated, but this time it wasn't Jamison – it was a number that hadn't been programmed into her phone. She opened the text and a smile made its home on her face as she realized it was Spencer. The butterflies took wing in her stomach as she read the text.

_Hey Emmy! The team and I are really excited about the show tonight. I was wondering if perhaps you and I could maybe go grab sushi afterwards…but only if you want to. I completely understand if you have plans already. Just let me know. See you tonight. –Spencer_

Her fingers trembled as she typed her response:

_Sushi sounds awesome. I know an awesome place we can go to. I'll see you tonight…can't wait! –Emmy_

The butterflies continued their flight as she grabbed her guitar case and purse from the chair in her living room. Checking the clock and noting that she had fifteen minutes to make it to the theatre, she quickly made her way out the door. The air felt beautiful, another perfect fall day in the city, and she couldn't help but think that the sun was shining just for her today. The sidewalk was littered with people, many of whom were giving her double takes as she walked past them. She flashed a brilliant smile to those who made eye contact with her and continued her journey to the theatre on campus that would house her acoustic show. She felt her phone vibrating in her purse as she neared the theatre, and the caller ID alerted her that it was her best friend.

"Hey Allie! What's up?"

"Nothing too much. Just knew you had a show tonight and wanted to call and say break a leg."

"Thanks dearest. So how's California treating you?" Allie had moved to California after graduation in May to pursue a film career. So far she had landed a few guest spots on various television shows, but she was still looking for a major break.

"California is blazing hot right now, but good otherwise. My agent has me lined up for, like, ten casting calls this week." The nerves came out as her voice rose in pitch a little. Emmy smiled – her friend was beyond talented enough to land whatever job she wanted, but sometimes her nerves got the best of her during auditions.

"Allie, just take deep breaths and know that you are absolutely amazing. Seriously, you and I know you are talented. You can do this. And if they don't give you the job, then you keep going. How's life outside of acting? Met a man yet?" The question came out as Emmy stepped into the backstage area of the theatre. The dressing room had been adorned with flowers for her, which made her smile even brighter.

"Well, I do have a date tomorrow night with a guy I met at the grocery store…" Emmy couldn't contain her laughter. "You met him at a GROCERY STORE? How perfect would that be for a movie beginning?" Allie laughed with her. "I know, right? But he's 26, never been married, an engineer…he's practically perfect in every way, Em."

"Well, you know I wish you the best of luck, my friend. I just got to the theatre, gotta run a sound check…"

"Girl, do your thing. Just call me back when you get a chance. Love you and miss you!"

"Love you too, girl. I'll call you sometime this week. We have major men topics to catch up on…apparently on both ends." Allie squealed in excitement! "Emmy James! You better call me back as soon as you get the chance, okay?"

"You got it. Bye, Allie." She ended the call and swiftly made her way, guitar in hand, to the stage. The stage manager, Jesse, was sitting in the booth and waved down to her. She smiled and called, "Hey, Jesse!"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, my dear. Just plug in and tune, and we'll get this thing rolling."

"Fantastic. Oh, Jesse, you got the piano, yeah?"

"Yes, my dear. It's in the wing right now, but I'll be down there in a minute to move it out for you. It's been tuned and everything all ready. You'll just want to do a vocal run with it."

"You're the best." She quickly went through the sound check, and when Jesse was confident that they had achieved the best possible balance she thanked him once more and made her way backstage. The house was set to open in thirty minutes, and she could already hear the audience outside the house doors. When she got to her dressing room she saw that Jamison had called her only three minutes prior, so she quickly called him back.

"Hey Emmy, Mary Grace and I are here. You in your dressing room now?"

"Yes I am. You two come on back."

"Sweet, see you in a few." They hung up and Emmy checked herself in the mirror. She was losing weight, she noticed, something her mother would be happy about. Her mother was always talking about how if she would lose weight she could land any man she wanted; after all, she had a lovely face and a personality of gold…at least that's what her mother said. Her father, however, never seemed to be okay with anything she did. When she had landed the record deal he had said she wouldn't last long, and now that she had obtained some form of success he said that she was acting high and mighty and forgetting her roots…

"Emmy!" Jamison's voice cut through her memories and brought her into a much more pleasant reality. She gave her friend a hug and then, pulling away from him, extended her hand to his guest. "Hey, I'm Emmy."

"Mary Grace. It's really nice to finally meet you. Jamison's told me a lot about you." The girl was beautiful, and Emmy loved how proud Jamison looked to finally be introducing them. "Well, Jamison has told me a lot about you as well." It was then she noticed the boot on Mary Grace's foot. "Oh, girl, what happened?"

"Just a minor dancing incident. Doctor says I'll be in this stupid thing for three more weeks. Had to postpone my showcase, though. It was actually supposed to be tonight, but, well…at least I had the opportunity to come to your show!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. When you get to do it let me know! I'd love to come and see it." Mary Grace seemed truly taken aback that Emmy was showing genuine interest in her. "Oh my goodness, that would be amazing!"

"Well, ladies, as much as I'd like to let you two chat it up, I know that you probably want some time alone and we shall give that to you," Jamison stated with a smile, and then added, "I'm sure you two will have plenty of time to get to know one another better in the near future."

Emmy nodded and then exclaimed, "It was so nice to finally meet you! I hope you guys enjoy the show!" Jamison and Mary Grace left the room, and Emmy was alone once again. She started thinking about the recent murders that had been occurring on campus, and a chill made its way down her spine. She was just the type the murderer was targeting, that much she knew…but would he really continue going after girls since the FBI was in town? And if he did, how long would it be before he came after her…

Her phone once again went off, and she was jolted from her thoughts. The anxiety she felt about the unknown murderer was quickly replaced with anxiety about seeing Spencer again as she recognized his number on the screen. "Hello," she coolly answered, trying with everything in her to hide the nerves that threatened to strangle her.

"Hey Emmy! We're here. Is it okay if we still come backstage?" He sounded so innocent, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah! Come right on in. You can't miss my dressing room."

"Okay, be there in a sec."

She wondered what he would look like…would he be in his work clothes or would he be dressed up…and again her mind flirted back to the text conversation they had had earlier, about sushi after the show. Was it a date? She wasn't able to think anymore on the subject, however, because there he was, lightly knocking on the door, a bouquet of roses in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other.


	5. Chapter 5

She looked radiant, and he couldn't help but smile as he took in her appearance. Classic and elegant were the first two words to come to mind, and he knew in that moment that his life was changing. He had never felt about anyone what he felt about her…and he had only known her for a day. She was unlike any woman he had ever encountered. Spencer Reid was falling for Emmy James, headfirst and with no reservations.

He looked dashing in gray dress pants, a black button down dress shirt, a black wool coat, and a black and grey scarf. The very sight of him rendered her speechless. He was beautiful, everything she had ever dreamed of in a man. His eyes captivated her, pulling her in, and she was finding that, even though they had only known each other for a day, she wanted to be with him. She wanted him to want her. He was unlike any man she had ever known, and it was undeniable – Emmy James was falling for Spencer Reid.

"Hey." Her heart melted again, and she smiled.

When she smiled, as if her smile could have gotten any bigger, he felt himself wanting to kiss her. It was completely uncalled for, and would have gotten him a slap in the face, he was sure of it, but there was something so irresistible about her.

"Hey." It was as if he was the only thing that mattered at that moment. God, he was intoxicating.

"Oh my God. Emmy James is standing right in front of me…" It was that sentence that brought Emmy out of her trance. She now noticed the woman and man Spencer had brought with him. The woman was short, blonde, and extraordinarily bright. Emmy had no doubt the two would swiftly become good friends if the opportunity arose. The man was tall, dark, chiseled like a statue, and had a smile that could power all of Texas. The two made a quirky but cute couple, Emmy silently thought, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was what people would think about her and Spencer.

"I'm Emmy. You must be Spencer's coworkers." She extended her hand to both of them. The blonde was the first to speak.

"I'm Penelope Garcia, technical analyst. But you can call me Penelope…or Garcia…or you there…" Emmy laughed, and it melted Spencer's heart how carefree the girl was. "I think I'll stick with Penelope. And you are?" She turned her attention to the man.

"Derek Morgan. You can call me Morgan, everyone else does. It's really nice to meet you, Ms. James."

"Oh, please, call me Emmy! So, Penelope, I hear that you are the one who introduced Spencer to my music." As she said this, she took the flowers and coffee from Spencer, the gratitude evident in her bright eyes.

"It wasn't just Spencer she introduced. All of us have her to thank," Morgan stated.

"Well, I'm glad that you guys enjoy my music, and I'm glad you guys could make it to the show tonight. I know things are probably crazy with that psycho roaming campus…" The air shifted as her words landed. The FBI agents were once again reminded that this wasn't a night off, but rather they had a job to do. Spencer couldn't help but notice how Emmy played with the fabric of her dress with her free hand as the thought of the unsub potentially coming after her played in her mind. She absently took a sip of the coffee and smiled.

"Did you get this from Java?"

"Yeah…I figured you might like a little piece of pre-show heaven…"

"You have no idea," she laughed. "Today was one of the longest days of my life. All of my professors are, like, hounding me about making sure I am attending auditions for Broadway shows. I know they care and they just want me to succeed and all, but I'm wondering if Broadway is what I'm supposed to do, or if I am supposed to just sing, or if television might be the right direction…there are just so many options open and really, I just want to finish school." And like that, the air was back to one of lightheartedness.

"Girl, you should totally audition for Broadway. You would own everyone who even tried to go up against you." Penelope's words lifted Emmy's spirit. "Thank you so much! I really appreciate that." She took another sip of her coffee while looking toward Spencer, who she had caught staring at her.

He simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. It was as if he were afraid if he looked away she would disappear, like a dream you don't want to wake up from. The ease in which she communicated with his friends just further emphasized to him that she was someone special, someone worth pursuing. He knew Derek was watching him, and Penelope and Emmy were chatting about their favorite Broadway shows at this point. He caught pieces of the conversation, names that the girls were throwing out, and he made a mental note to look them up. It helped to have an eidetic memory, especially when it came to remembering what a girl liked and didn't like. It had certainly helped when he had returned to Java to grab her cup of coffee, having remembered she had taken her coffee black the day before. His attention was pulled away from her as he noticed Morgan stand, phone up to his ear, motioning Spencer to join him. The two made their way outside the dressing room as he excused the both of them. The girls didn't seem to mind, too wrapped up in their own conversation to worry about the sudden departure of the men.

"What do you mean, that showcase is cancelled?" Morgan asked. Reid could tell that it was their boss on the other end of the line. Hotch, Rossi, and JJ had gone to the dance showcase, apparently to find that it had been cancelled. As Reid listened to his boss return an answer anxiety made its residence in his stomach. That meant that if the unsub stuck with his typical pattern, he would be at this showcase…it meant that Emmy was in danger. The very thought made him a little nauseous, but he was determined to stay strong, if for no one else then for her. She could not know about this new development.

"Alright, Hotch, we'll keep you guys posted. What? Oh, okay, yeah he's here with me. Hang on," and, then, to Reid, "JJ wants to speak to you." The look on Reid's face caused his partner to chuckle slightly. "Hey JJ, what's up?"

"How's your date going, hot stuff?"

"JJ, it is not a date. This is work."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that."

"Goodbye, JJ…" As he started to pull the phone away from his ear he heard her yell, "Wait, Spence!"

"Yeah?"

"Just…be careful, okay?" The concern that laced her voice set Spencer on edge. He knew that his team thought of him as the kid brother, but to hear them vocalize their concern for his safety always unnerved him a bit.

"I will, Jayje." He passed the phone back to Morgan and made his way back into the dressing room. The profiler in him read the worry in Emmy's eyes, and it steeled him. He would do whatever it took to protect her. Penelope looked towards him, questioning him with her eyes, and he answered aloud, "Hotch just called to wish Emmy luck on the show. He's sorry that he and the rest of the team couldn't be here, but there was an update on the case."

"Spencer, I don't want to be the one keeping you guys from work. God, that is incredibly selfish of me, expecting you guys to just drop everything…"

"Sweetheart, there is nowhere we would rather be," Morgan exclaimed as he entered the room again, comforting Emmy while quietly reminding the others that they were there for a job. Spencer nodded, and Emmy shot him a thankful smile. "Well, the show starts in, like, ten minutes, so you guys might want to go and grab a seat…"

"Yeah, we'll do that," Morgan extended his hand to her. "It was nice to meet you, Emmy."

"You too, Morgan." She then turned to the analyst, who hugged her. This made Emmy's smile brighten all the more. "Oh, before I forget," Garcia burst, "I made this for you." Emmy laughed with joy as Penelope presented a friendship bracelet. It was lime, turquoise, black, and silver, all of Emmy's favorite colors. As Penelope tied it on her wrist Emmy noticed the matching one Garcia wore. "Best friends forever now," she proclaimed, and Garcia's smile lit up the room. "You really like it?"

"Oh my goodness, I love it! Those are seriously my favorite colors."

"Awesome! Okay, my god," she addressed Morgan, "let's go grab seats." She winked toward Spencer as she and Morgan left the room.

He was finally alone with her, and it took everything in him to not just tell her how he felt. He didn't want to make it awkward, though, so he settled for, "Break a leg."

"There's something you're not telling me…" Her eyes examined his, begging for answers. She didn't know what she was expecting him to say, and it obviously was not what he was expecting to hear because as he stood wide eyed she instantly regretted letting the words leave her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous…"

"About the show?" He knew that wasn't what she was nervous about, but he prayed that he would be able to spare her from the fact that she was the unsub's only target for the night.

"No, about the potential that I could be targeted tonight." Her voice trailed off and her eyes were cast downward. As gently as he could, and with as much courage as he could muster, Spencer tilted her head up so that her eyes met his. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise you that." Then, with a smile, "It's your senior showcase. Enjoy the moment, Emmy."

He gave her one last reassuring look and then left the room, leaving her to her thoughts. When he said that he wouldn't let anything happen to her, she genuinely believed him, with everything in her. It didn't matter that just days prior he had been a complete stranger. There was something about Dr. Spencer Reid that kept her calm. Jesse rapped on the door and said, "Three minutes, Ms. James."

"Thank you, Jesse." She once again looked at herself in the mirror, knowing that just as tonight marked an end to her career at NYU it also marked the beginning of a new page of life, one that involved Spencer Reid, and she prayed he would be a central character in this chapter and the ones to come.


	6. Chapter 6

The show had been exceptional. Emmy had performed for an hour, playing her favorites. Spencer had found himself being swept away by her as she crooned. He could tell she really related to the songs she sang. Not only was she a gifted singer, but she was a good piano and guitar player as well, further impressing the young genius. The notes she played seemed to take him to another place, a place where it was just her and him, with no threat of dangerous unsubs or of a mundane life. It was a place where they were happy just being with one another. She had received a standing ovation and people had called for an encore, which she politely declined. She had, however, met Spencer's eye on more than one occasion, hoping that he realized the words she sang were meant for him.

Garcia had sat back and enjoyed the show, but Morgan had been observing the crowd from where he sat. No one in particular jumped out at him, but the three leads the team had kept flashing through his mind. He knew Reid was fond of this girl, and the last thing he wanted was for his best friend to be hurt because of some psycho. As Emmy stepped out of view of the audience he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable not being able to see her. He tapped Garcia on the shoulder and simply stated, "Let's go." Reid understood exactly what Morgan was feeling and was more than happy to follow his partner to the backstage dressing room where Emmy would be waiting. The problem was that she wasn't waiting backstage.

Instinctively both Morgan and Reid looked towards each other, a cautious hand on their guns, while Penelope began rambling off places where she could be. "She could have gone to the restroom, or back to the stage…oh, she's at the front of the house! I remember reading in the program that there was going to be a meet-and-greet after the show…" Reid's eyes grew wide. It would be the perfect location for someone to take her away from, simply leading her off to talk in a less-crowded area and then drugging her…

"Pretty Boy, let's go!" Morgan's urgent voice drew him back to reality, and he all but sprinted to where the hundreds of audience members stood trying to interact with the star of the evening. His eyes quickly scanned the room, trying to find her, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding when he saw her, about twenty feet away, talking to an elderly couple. He made his way toward her, not caring how rude he seemed, and he caught the tail end of her conversation with the elderly gentleman standing in front of her.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Donelly. I really appreciate all you do for the arts here at NYU. Lord knows it got me through college." The older man squeezed her hand and then gave her a peck on the cheek. "You're going to go far, my dear," his wife beamed, and Emmy thanked her graciously.

"Well, I suppose Joseph Donelly is out of the question. The man is older than dirt," Morgan muttered just loud enough for Reid to hear. The younger man couldn't help but chuckle at that remark, and he felt better knowing that they had narrowed down the leads to two. Penelope had shuffled toward the object of her young genius's affection, and she swiftly embraced Emmy in a hug. "Oh you were so amazing!"

"Thank you so much! What was your favorite part?"

"That's gotta be either when you belted out 'Bring on the Men' or when you sang 'I'll Be Here'…I had tears in my eyes on that one. Oh, who am I kidding? I loved every bit of it. Seriously, there was not one single song that you did not sing perfectly."

"I'll say," a tall man in his forties appeared from behind Emmy, extending her a bottle of water. "Here you go, Ms. James." She took the water and quickly took a sip, nodding her thanks. As she swallowed, she voiced, "Thank you, Bill. Needed that." The man simply nodded and walked off, glancing back over his shoulder at the young girl as he did. Garcia couldn't help but feel like the man looked at Emmy like she was a piece of meat. Not wanting to be nosy, though, she continued on. "Maybe when you land on Broadway I can finally convince Morgan to take me to a show."

"If I make it on Broadway, you mean." Emmy smiled, and Garcia laughed. Then, out of nowhere, "Penelope, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure thing, honey buns."

"I know that this might sound crazy, since we only met, like, a day ago, but…"

"Yes. The answer is yes." Emmy looked at the woman quizzically; she hadn't even finished her sentence. "Darling, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Trust me, I've known my Junior G-Man for a while now, and he has never talked about a woman the way he talked about you."

The blush crept into Emmy's cheeks as what Garcia was telling her registered – he felt the same way about her as she felt towards him. "So you don't think I'm being stupid or girly or childish?"

"It is never stupid to love someone. And you'd be hard pressed to find someone as good as Spencer Reid."

"I'm starting to realize that, I think…thanks, Penelope." She then composed herself as Spencer and Derek walked up. "You were amazing, Emmy," Derek complimented, and she answered with a polite thank you. She took another drink of water, this one more generous than the last, and she realized then how thirsty she had been. After downing three-fourths of the bottle, she addressed Spencer. "So did you have a good time?"

"Yeah! You were amazing. I've never heard anyone like you…the way you play guitar and piano is astonishing. You have a gift, for real." His voice trailed off. He sounded lame in his ears, but to her he was saying everything she had ever desired to hear from a man. Before she could come up with a reply that wouldn't' reveal just how lovesick she was over him, Jamison and Mary Grace stepped forward. Mary Grace couldn't contain her excitement at how beautifully Emmy had sung, and Jamison gave her a peck on the cheek before telling her how proud he was of his best friend. He then turned to the trio of FBI agents and introduced himself. Emmy jumped in, introducing the three of them, and she saw the spark in Jamison's eye as she introduced Spencer. It was as if her best friend could read that this man was important to her, and he glanced at her as if indicating, "You and I will be talking later tonight via text."

"Well, it was nice to meet you all," Jamison stated, "but Mary Grace and I are about to go and grab dinner with her parents." Then, to Emmy, he added, "I'll talk to you soon."

"Sure thing, friend." He waved and then took Mary Grace's hand as they departed.

"Young love," Garcia quipped, and Morgan leaned in for a kiss, which she returned. Spencer looked over at Emmy, who had all of a sudden turned a little pale. "Are you okay?" He asked, concern creeping in. She smiled up at him, though not as brightly as earlier, and quietly stated, "Yeah, just a little tired all of a sudden."

"We don't have to go out for sushi. If you are too tired we can reschedule." The disappointment was evident in his voice, though he tried to hide it. She shook her head. "No, I definitely want to spend time with you…but maybe we could go back to my place and order take-out?" He smiled, glad that she wanted to spend time with him. Of course he knew Morgan would have a field day with the fact that she had invited him back to her place, but he didn't care. "That sounds good to me." Out of politeness, Emmy turned to Morgan and Garcia and asked, "Would you two like to join us?"

They glanced at each other and towards Reid before Garcia answered, "Not tonight. I think my man owes me some one-on-one time, if you know what I mean." The smirk on her face indicated exactly what she meant, and Reid felt the blush creeping into his face. Morgan only smiled and gave a small growl to his woman. Emmy couldn't help but laugh at the two of them before turning to Reid and saying, "I just need to grab my things. Meet me out back?"

It made him uncomfortable to leave her alone, but he also didn't want to seem like he was being pushy, so he nodded and watched her as she made her way backstage once again. "My man, my man!" Morgan exclaimed. "She wants you to go back to her place, eh?"

"Morgan, it means nothing. We are just going to talk and eat…nothing more."

"That's what you think now. Man, the girl likes you. Enjoy it."

"There's no way that she's interested in me, guys…"

"I have it on good authority that she is, my Junior G-Man," Garcia chimed with a smirk in her voice. The look on Reid's face was priceless, and Morgan clapped him on the back. "Do your thing, Pretty Boy." He then draped his arm on Garcia's shoulders and they left Reid standing alone in the theatre.

As Emmy made her way back to the dressing room she shook her head to try and ward of the headache and dizziness that had begun to assault her. _I hope to God I'm not coming down with the flu_, she thought to herself. She had taken a trip to the stage to retrieve her guitar and now entered the dressing room, storing the instrument in its case. She put her purse around her neck and picked up her guitar case before reaching for the bouquet of roses Spencer had brought for her. Another wave of dizziness hit her, and just as she thought the flowers would go crashing to the ground a set of hands reached out to grab them. She looked up to see Bill standing in front of her, concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay, Emmy?" She nodded lightly, and then vocalized, "Yeah, I'm just a little tired is all."

"Here, let me help you carry your stuff outside." He took the flowers and guitar from her hands, and she quietly issued thanks to him. She had never felt very comfortable around the man, but had had dealings with him as he was one of the voice professors. She was kind to him out of respect, something her parents had imparted on her from a young age. Even as he walked beside her now she felt a tension that she could not explain, so she passed it off to being tired.

"You really were astounding tonight."

"Thank you, Bill. I appreciate that."

"One day, some man is going to be lucky enough to have you for himself…" She glanced at the professor out of the corner of her eye. Before she could question what he meant, he continued. "God knows I'd consider myself the luckiest man in the world if I could come home to your pretty little self every night."

"Um, Mr. Shipley, I don't think this conversation is very appropriate…"

"I don't think you understand just how much I've done for you. I think the least you could do would be to entertain me sometime at my place."

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop. I can see myself out, thank you." She reached for the guitar case, but he pulled it away from her. She stumbled forward, the dizziness getting the best of her, and he pushed himself up against her as she hit the wall. He violently turned her to face him and pushed his lips against hers, She fought back as hard as she could, finally kneeing him in the crotch. He hissed in pain as she slid away from him. The bouquet had been dropped in the madness, landing near her feet. She grabbed them up along with her guitar case as Bill muttered "you bitch" and lunged for her. This time she was quicker though and it was he that landed on the floor.

"Don't you ever come near me again," she spat, all respect lost.

"I'd watch that pretty little back of yours," he countered. "There have been reports of some, shall we say, unfortunate incidents with our art students. We wouldn't want to lose another one, now would we?" His words caused her to stop dead in her tracks and her blood to run cold. As she turned to face him, he added, "And we wouldn't want your little FBI friends to get involved, now would we?"

"You son of a bitch," she whispered, the terror evident in her voice.

"Let's just keep this little encounter between us, shall we, my dear? We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt." She shot him a final look before rounding on her heel and making her way to the door. The fresh air hitting her face didn't help the feeling that she was suffocating, and she knew she needed to calm down before she encountered Spencer so as not to alarm him or alert him to the situation.

As promised he was waiting for her outside, and his smile helped calm her down a little bit as she approached. "You ready?" He asked.

"Yeah." A chill ran through her as she couldn't shake the feeling that Bill was watching them, and it didn't go unnoticed by Spencer, who shrugged out of his overcoat and offered it to her. She thanked him and slid it on, instantly feeling warmer. He then picked up her guitar and they began the walk home. As they continued Emmy felt dizzier and dizzier, causing her to remain quiet. Spencer kept stealing glances toward her, his profiling skills kicking in. She was uncomfortable, and he couldn't help but feel it was something he had done.

"You're quiet," he stated, hoping it wouldn't upset her. She smiled up at him and replied, "I'm just not feeling too well."

"Do we need to go to a doctor or something?"

"I don't think that's necessary…but thanks," she laughed a little at the end, thinking it was charming how concerned he was. She wanted to blurt out right then and there what had happened, but before she could say something he began, "I know that there is something else bothering you, and I can't help but think I did something wrong…"

"No! Oh my gosh, no! You have done everything right. Spencer, tonight has been amazing because you were a part of it." She was blushing and she could tell he was too.

"But if that's the case, then what is really wrong?" When she seemed hesitant to answer, he stated, "I'm not a profiler for no reason, you know." He expected her to at least half-heartedly laugh at the last part, but instead she looked up with terror in her eyes. They were two blocks away from her apartment, and she wondered if she should wait to get inside to tell him. Deciding it would be safer, she whispered, "When we get to the apartment I'll tell you everything. Please just trust me."

He understood immediately what she was implying – that she felt like she was being watched, that being on the streets was unsafe now. He protectively took her hand, interlacing her fingers in his, and quickened his gait. She was thankful that he had seemed to understand and sighed in relief as they neared the apartment. She entered the code to access the building and the lack clicked open for the two. He allowed her to enter before him and followed her up the stairs. She quickly unlocked her door and they entered in silence. Her dizziness had only increased as they had practically sprinted to her place, and now she was paying for it. Every heartbeat resounded in her ears, but she needed to tell Spencer what had happened.

"When I went to gather my things, I was confronted by one of my voice professors," she started, but was interrupted. "What is his name?"

"Bill Shipley." She saw the flash of recognition cross Spencer's face and she continued. "He basically told me that after all he had done for me and my career that the least I could do would be to offer a good night in bed. I told him that I felt uncomfortable talking about that with him and that he needed to leave, and when I reached for my guitar I guess I stumbled and he pushed me against the wall and kissed me." The anger was building inside Spencer. He already felt like he had failed this woman who he had sworn to protect.

"I kneed him in the crotch and he threatened that if I told anyone about what had happened that people would get hurt…" Her voice died, tears welling up in her eyes. Spencer walked toward her and pulled her into an embrace. Sobs racked her body as she whispered, "I'm so scared…"

"He's not going to get to you now…" He kept one arm around her while he fished out his phone from his pocket. Pressing "1" on speed dial, he urged Hotch to pick up.

"Hotchner."

"We have an issue. I know who our unsub is…"

"Is Emmy okay?"

"She's fine, but he confronted her after the show and threatened her…"

"Who is he?"

"Bill Shipley. Voice professor at NYU."

"Okay, Reid. Stay with Emmy. Keep her in your sight. Rossi and I are gonna track him down now."

"Alright. Keep me updated."

"You got it." He slid the phone back in his pocket and Emmy pulled away. Her eyeliner had smudged underneath her eyes, and he sadly smiled as he used his thumb to wipe it way. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For staying with me. For just being here…" She took his hand and led her to her bedroom. The first things he noticed were the books scattered around the room. She seemed to have a library stored in her bedroom. _I knew I liked her for a reason_, he mused. The second thing he noticed was the keyboard. There was sheet music scattered, and he picked up the first one he saw. He smiled as he recognized the tune from one of his favorite movies, _Once_. Sitting on the chair in front of the instrument, he began to play "Falling Slowly" gracefully. Emmy took the guitar out of its case as she sat on her bed, playing along. Just when she thought that they would be playing it only Spencer's voice resonated through the air, piercing her and causing chill bumps to appear on her arms. His voice was angelic, like nothing she had ever heard before, and when she added her voice to create a harmony they both felt the undeniable connection that only music can provide. She felt herself falling more and more in love with him as the song continued on, Penelope's words of affirmation swirling through her mind. As he finished the last few chords she got up and made her way to him. He looked up at her and smiled a goofy grin that only he could pull off.

"I didn't know you could play…"

"Well, it never really came up," he replied. He stood to be even with her, and it was in that moment that he knew he wanted her, more than he had wanted anything in his life. He leaned down and she closed her eyes, knowing what would happen next. When their lips met, she could have sworn she saw fireworks going off in her brain. It was unlike anything either of them had experienced, starting off slow and simple and then building into a flurry of tongue and passion. He felt drunk in her presence and she in his, and as they made their way to her bed she couldn't help but feel that whatever he wanted she would give to him. He was holding her tightly, like if he let go she would vanish, and she was running her fingers through his chestnut locks, willing him to stay with her forever.

They came up panting for breath moments later, staring into each other's eyes as if they could read the others' soul that way. He brushed a piece of her hair out of her face and she held his hand there for a moment before pulling away, smiling. "I'll be right back," she informed him. She made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a change of clothes from her closet as she went. She washed her face of the makeup that was now smudged and combed her hair, using her brush to remove some of the hairspray that would be washed out the next morning. She then removed her dress and slipped into a pair of oversized NYU sweatpants and a baggy show choir t-shirt from high school. Her hair was then thrown into a messy bun on top of her head, completing the ready for bed look. Hopefully she wouldn't scare him too badly. Her thoughts were interrupted by yet another round of dizziness, this time accompanied with nausea. She willed herself not to throw up and promised that she would go to the doctor the next day after her voice lesson.

Whatever form of reaction she thought she would get out of Spencer was definitely not what she got. His breath caught in his chest and he could only whisper, "God, you're beautiful." She laughed and replied, "You're crazy."

"Seriously, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he stated as he made his way over to where she stood. He bent down to kiss her forehead, and as he did she began to sway. He quickly took hold of her and questioned, "What's wrong?"

"Dizzy…" she whispered, then jokingly added, "You're intoxicating, Dr. Reid." He would have thought it funny if she hadn't begun to fall forward into him. "Emmy? Come on, let's get you into bed." He was concerned, to say the least, but he held out hope that it was nothing serious. She allowed him to guide her to the bed where he tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead. He turned to walk away but before he could go far she grabbed for his hand and whispered, "Please stay with me…"

He turned back toward her and saw how frightened she looked. He nodded and said, "Okay." She was having a hard time keeping her eyes open, sleep threatening to take hold of her, but before she let them close for good he heard her say, "Sweatpants third drawer in closet, t-shirts first drawer…" He smiled a little and followed her instructions to find his sleepwear for the evening. When he had changed he placed his gun on the stand beside them and slid onto the bed beside her, staying on top of the covers. Her breathing had slowed and evened out, a telltale sign that she had drifted into unconsciousness, but as he put his arm protectively over her and held her hand she slid a little closer to him.

"Goodnight, my songbird," he whispered, closing his eyes and indulging in her sleeping presence next to him.


	7. Chapter 7

He woke up with a start, unsure of what pulled him from his slumber. He smiled as he remembered who he was with, but that smile quickly vanished as he realized she was not lying next to him anymore. The light drifting in from the bathroom provided a clue to her location, and the sound of retching met his ears. He quickly jumped up from the bed and made his way into the bathroom where the beautiful young girl sat slumped over her toilet. A thin layer of sweat covered her pale face, and he noticed that she was trembling. "Oh, Emmy…" he whispered as he sank down beside her, all fear of germs disappearing from his mind.

"I don't feel so good…" she managed to utter before another round of vomit left her clinching the toilet for dear life. She was crying, that much he could tell, and he pulled her back into his arms as she sobbed. "I'm so dizzy, Spence…" The words were barely a whisper, causing his anxiety level to shoot through the roof. Then it hit him – she had started feeling sick immediately after the show, immediately after…

"Did Bill Shipley give you anything to eat or drink after the show?"

She nodded weakly, moving toward the toilet again. This time only dry heaves wracked her body, leaving her clutching her abdomen in agony. "Please make it stop…" The despair in her voice broke him, but not nearly as much as the guilt he felt for not realizing it sooner. He stood and then took her by the arms. "Emmy, I need you to stand up, okay? We need to get you to a hospital."

"What did he do to me…" Her voice was faltering, and it appeared to Spencer that she was slipping out of unconsciousness. He lifted her off the floor, supporting her as he led her to the bed. He sat her on the edge and reached for his phone, quickly pressing 1 on speed dial. As the phone rang he noticed her eyes drooping again. "Emmy, come on, I need you to stay awake, okay? Look at me." She raised her eyes sleepily to look at him, and it scared him how unfocused they seemed. He reached down to her wrist and felt for her pulse, finding it extremely slow.

"Hotchner." The voice on the other end of the line sounded groggy, and Reid knew he had just woken his boss up. The circumstances, however, warranted the phone call and he knew his boss would want to know.

"Hotch, she's been drugged." He could hear the anxiety in his voice, and as much as he wanted to keep it together for Emmy he knew that the situation was not a good one. He needed to get her to the hospital, and quickly. Her breathing was far too slow and too deep.

"Reid, slow down for a second. What's going on?"

"I woke up and found her throwing up. Her eyes are really glossy and unfocused, she was complaining of dizziness, her pulse is way too slow and her breathing is really slow too. I think he gave her GHB."

"Okay, Reid, listen to me. You need to get her to the hospital. We will meet you there. She's going to be okay."

"Alright, Hotch. We'll see you there."

"Reid, she's going to be fine."

"I hope you're right." He pocketed the phone in the sweatpants he had borrowed before asking, "Emmy, where do you keep your sweatshirts?"

"Plastic bin on the shelf in the closet…"

"Okay, keep your eyes open." He rushed into the closet and grabbed the first two sweatshirts on top and then made his way back to her. She was swaying on the edge of the bed, and he quickly reached out to steady her. He slid the navy sweatshirt over her messy hair and then slipped the gray one over his own body. He also slipped his dress shoes on, briefly thinking to himself that Morgan would laugh at his appearance had he been here, while looking for shoes for her. He found her Toms by the door in the closet, and he helped her slip her feet into them. He then lifted her up and wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting most of her weight as they made their way out of the apartment. He thought to grab her keys as they exited and he pocketed them with his cell phone.

She was losing consciousness at a rapid rate and it concerned him as they made their way down the stairs and onto the street. He knew that the nearest hospital was 20 minutes away, and that he would not be able to walk her there, so he desperately prayed for a cab to come down the street. His prayers were answered a short minute later, and he frantically flagged down the driver, who pulled up close to the curb. Spencer quickly threw open the door to the backseat and helped a barely conscious Emmy into the car. He slid in behind her as the driver asked, "Where you headed?" His dark eyes glared at them from the rear-view mirror. "Hospital, fast…" Spencer breathed as he pulled Emmy into his arms. She had begun muttering something under her breath, and he whispered, "You're gonna be okay. It's all gonna be okay."

The driver pulled away from the curb and asked, "What's wrong with her?"

Spencer questioned whether or not he should tell this stranger what was going on. He opted to simply reply, "She got sick tonight…"

"I'd say. She looks rough." Spencer shot him a look. There was something off about him, something menacing about they way he glared at them from the mirror. Spencer warranted a glance out the window and realized that they were not heading toward the hospital.

"I said we needed a hospital…" Spencer stated as the driver pulled into an alley. He quickly tensed as a gun was pointed at his head, and he cursed himself for leaving his at Emmy's apartment. "Get out of the car, Dr. Reid."

"I don't know what's going on, but…" He was silenced by the driver's rage-filled response. "I said get out of the damn car! Do it or she dies!" Reid looked toward Emmy, who was still muttering under her breath and now shivering without his arms around her. He opened the door and slid out into the dark alley, and he heard her whisper, "Spence…don't leave me…"

The driver quickly made his way over and pushed him against the brick wall of a building. Spencer's heart was racing; the situation had gone from bad to worse. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Dr. Reid." The anger filling the man's voice was enough to turn Spencer's blood cold. He indicated toward Emmy with the gun and replied, "Her." That did it for Spencer. He had promised to protect her at all costs, even his life, so while the man looked toward the girl sprawled in the back seat of the cab he made his move, lunging toward the unsub and sending them both hurdling to the ground. Spencer delivered a few well-aimed punches to the man's face before the stunned unsub retaliated, punching him in the abdomen and knocking the breath out of him with a blow to the sternum. As Spencer lay coughing on the ground the unsub stood, raised the gun, and pointed it at the FBI agent. "You will regret that, Dr. Reid."

Reid then felt a blinding pain on the back of his head and his world dissolved into darkness.


End file.
